


SF Hallucinations

by jentaro



Category: Watch Dogs (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, the assassin sugar daddy AU that my soul was begging me to write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-06
Updated: 2017-06-06
Packaged: 2018-11-09 16:52:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11108784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jentaro/pseuds/jentaro
Summary: All Marcus wanted to do was get some sleep, was that so much to ask?





	SF Hallucinations

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this post](http://otherwindow.tumblr.com/post/159225042445/watch-dogs-2-au-marcus-ends-up-giving-jordi-the) tbh, though in a bit of a different scenario in the onset. also yall can thank [kat](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tangobullets) for pushing me to finish this. there's like... so much more in casual chatlog format that i might write if there's a positive response for this but i'll warn you right here and now if i do continue there is absolutely no update schedule. barely edited since I'm posting this late as hell at night, but blease enjoy :'^)
> 
> also my tunglr is [slimejen](http://www.slimejen.tumblr.com) and u can catch me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/somegarbageisok) too

The apartment was unlocked when he got there, and for a moment Marcus considered that, yeah, he’d _definitely_ locked up last time he had left. Still, it didn't feel like a normal break in, not when he’d checked the footage from the cameras he’d set up for this exact purpose.

He'd _just_ laid down at the hackerspace too, and instead of sleeping in his usual awkward position until he blearily woke up to his alarm, he woke up to the sound of the alarm being tripped from his actual residence. Marcus had only seen a shadowy figure going further inside once the door opened, the thief oblivious to his silent security and to being observed as far as he knew. After a few moments, the cameras had lost track of the intruder; Marcus knew he couldn't let this go and that he had to investigate. Sitara was missing in the early hours of the morning, and Josh was absorbed in the same thing he’d been doing for days. No Ray. Wrench was predictably at his workbench when he got up, tinkering with the innards of something or other.

So, telling Wrench it was; Marcus stopped next to him and leaned against the counter as he said, “Hey man, someone broke into my place, gonna head out and check it.”

Wrench looked up, turning toward him as he lowered his hands, letting a screwdriver roll onto the table, Xs lit up on his mask. “Oh no shit? Need help fuckin’ ‘em up?”

“Nah, I’m cool. I’ll fuck ‘em up myself.” Marcus could handle this alone, he’d handled more than just a thief before. It was just courteous to tell at least _someone_ where he would be.

“You sure?” His mask lit up with blinking question marks to emphasize his hesitance.

“Yeah, I checked the cameras. Just one person, I got it,” Marcus said, bouncing his hip from the work table surface and walking to the stairs.

Wrench shrugged, and said, “If you need some backup, give me a shout.”

“Mhm, will do.”

Thankfully, it was close enough to get to quickly with an easily disabled car alarm and clear streets at this hour. Still bleary, but on edge, Marcus finally reached his front door and stood painfully still with his ear to it. Four thirty in the morning, and the apartment was silent. Marcus was as quiet as he possibly could be given the circumstances. It was still dark outside, not even close to being daylight; an hour that was prime for scumbags to break and enter. Despite that, it had been so long since he’d been in his own apartment, that he felt himself almost at ease being here and being away from the noise of the hackerspace. Plus, he was so used to crashing on uncomfortable couches in a way that nearly made him forget that he was here to catch someone instead of falling into his own bed to rest. He certainly needed a good sleep after this.

As he made his way past the entry, he closed the door as gently as possible so as to not make noise, stepping carefully and quietly. Rounding the corner to the kitchen, there was nobody there. Nobody in the living room. Bathroom, empty. Which left the bedroom at the end of the short hallway, Marcus stepping slowly up to the door. It was cracked open just barely, and Marcus took a deep breath before grabbing for his stun gun and readying himself.

His breath was caught in his throat for the tense moment he hesitated, the silence almost deafening. A few seconds ticked by before he took another deep breath and kicked open his bedroom door, pointing the stun gun and eyes wildly looking around, falling on the _last_ person he had expected as an intruder. Sitting up on his bed, back to the wall and legs crossed, hands behind his head to cushion it from the wall. That asshole assassin that had fucked with him on the Bratva job was sitting there with a very self-satisfied air about him as he said, “You're not the pizza guy.”

Marcus lowered the stun gun and let out his breath at the same time as a most frustrated noise, and he asked, “Man what the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

“I don’t have time for pleasantries, so I'm gonna cut right to the chase, kid. I've got a job to do, need a hacker. You just happen to be top of the list, sound cool?”

“Cool? Abso _lutely_ not. Last time I helped you, you sicked the cops on me. You can find someone else,” Marcus said, stepping closer to the bed and realizing he had his feet on his sheets, of course with the shoes on. “Get those shoes off my bed too, what’s wrong with you man.”

He ignored him, seeming to stretch in place as he said, “Considering the last hacker I worked with threw me off a fucking lighthouse, wasn't a hard decision to not go to him. And you can hack your way out of a wet paper bag, or your jizz sock, whichever you prefer.”

Marcus decided to ignore the crude mark on his character, pursuing with, “Why can't you ask like a normal person? You could have, oh, I don't know, called. I'm sure you got my email. Send me a text, fuckin’ fax me, whatever, but showing up at my apartment?”

“It is common fucking _courtesy_ to let a business partner crash after coming off a red eye, and I've had a _long_ night.”

Business partner his _ass_ , but there was a finality to the words that promised, well, something. Whatever it was, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to find out. Still, Marcus said, “Business partner? Man, I don’t even know your _name_ the fuck you mean business partner?”

“Oh, my name? It’s Jordi. Nice to make your acquaintance, Marcus Holloway, now is that a yes or no?” All said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Jordi it was, then.

“I got any _real_ choice in this?”

“Smart question. I suppose you do, but I am _not_ hitting up my other guy for this when you're oh so available. You've got more… style. Finesse. And I'll take care of ya, I don't leave people hanging if they help me out.”

“Yeah, like you took care of me with the Bratva, with the cops, with beatin’ my ass…”

“Yeah well you fucked me, I don't like being fucked,” Jordi said casually, kicking his shoes off at least and pushing them off the bed, “Besides, it's in the past now, I can forgive since you've got the skill _I_ need for me to do the skill I’m good at.”

“Listen, I don't appreciate the offer, and I ain't gonna help you. You fucked _me_ , and I'm not a fan of getting fucked either.”

There was a pause, Jordi looking him up and down from where he stood at the end of the bed, smirking as he said, “I have a hard time believing that, kid. Anyway, youuu,” Jordi stretched the word out infuriatingly, pointing at him while he continued, “You gave me a hard time, made my job expo _nen_ tially harder just ‘cause you needed your shit. I could have solved my problem and just blew up the whole fucking yacht, but noooo, that would have been too easy for you.”

“You say that, but you looked like you had fun with Anton,” Marcus said, belatedly realizing the implication of what Jordi had said to him.

“Oh, I did. But, eh, enough of that, liiiiisten. I know what you and your ‘squad’ did,” Jordi said with air quotes, sounding purposely out of touch with the youth of the world, “I respect that. Nemec got what was coming to him. Now, my last hacker was very selfish, wasn’t really in it for all that hero good shit like you and your ‘squad’ were,” said with air quotes again, and this time Marcus could _not_ hold back his eye roll. “I’m using that word right?”

Trying not to verbally do the equivalent of rolling his eyes, he said, “I dunno, uh, listen though, still don't appreciate the offer, and I’m gonna have to pass. I don’t see any benefit for me.” He wasn't about to put his ass on the line again considering the circumstances last time, all the shit Jordi put him through.

“No benefit? Oh, no no, you didn’t let me finish. I take care of those who do me favors. I’m not gonna get down on my knees and beg, that’s not my style, but the only person near your skill level is a miserable fuck who‘s on a sentimental vengeance midlife fucking crisis quest _I’m_ not interested in. I can pay whatever you’d ask, I can look out for you. And the job is your style, if you wanna hear the ‘deets’,” again, with air quotes, and Marcus couldn't stop his groan. He could tell if it was to deliberately bait him, or if he really was serious.

“Alright alright, if you stop trying to be relatable to my age group, I'll hear you out,” Marcus said, air swatting for effect as he leaned back against his bedroom wall across from the bed.

Jordi seemed to like that answer, even if he said, “What? I'm not hip enough?” Marcus didn't dignify that with a response, and Jordi shrugged. “I've got a medium profile assassination which is normally piece of cake no fuckin’ problem, right? Except, security is airtight in a way that I can't sneak in and shoot my way past, which is where you come in.”

“You know what kind of security they're working with?”

“Nope, but it is damn good.”

Marcus made a face, crossing his arms and exhaling hard through his nose. “That's helpful. Medium profile as in?”

“You leave me to worry about the specific who, what you'll want to know is the why,” Jordi said, pausing to reach down on the bed to get the only pillow he wasn't leaning against, propping his head up. He readjusted his position, moving a few inches to the left. “ _How_ old is this mattress? It feels like shit, no wonder you don't sleep here.”

“The why,” Marcus said, enunciating the words clearly as he ran out of patience. He didn't want to know how Jordi knew he didn't come home often.

“Right, anyway, the why is a certain private prison propagating systematic racism by direct order of the head honcho. He's a real fuckin’ sleazebag, but all that shit about governments needing to fill a bed quota so prison shareholders can get all their juicy tax breaks? Not bullshit, turns out. Just drastically upped the quota in preliminary agreements, and my client ain't a fan.”

“Gotta train more cops, so they can arrest more people for more shit, means more innocent people are gonna die… Fuck, man,” the wheels were already turning in his head, and he continued, “I'm guessing we ain't talking a small prison either. Lemme guess, framing it as a job creator for everyone involved.”

“Bingo. I might even have a little bit of faith in you, that was some quick, smart thinking,” Jordi closed his eyes and breathed deep, exhaling slowly. “Booked us the earliest available flight, less than four hours. You in?”

“Again, I got a choice?”

“My client would be much happier if you said yes, but I said I'd look after you kid, have some faith in my ability to compensate good work.”

He took a moment to think about it, knowing his answer was already going to be yes, but the way this all came to be was infuriating at best. He didn't like it, but if he let this go and didn't help, it was as good as saying he didn't care about all the innocent people who would be fucked over. “I guess I'm in.”

“Great, listen, I'm gonna catch some shuteye.”

“Now hold on–”

“It can wait until we're suffering with screaming kids surrounding us in economy, I _promise_ you. Wake me up in two hours.”

Like Marcus wasn't bone deep tired too, but he also knew it was in his best interests to just… take this as is. “Fine.” Setting his alarm, he walked out of the bedroom and went for his couch, laying down and trying to keep himself from going into a deep sleep. Of course it didn't occur to him until he was shocked awake by said alarm that Jordi had kicked him out of his own bed.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Another thing that did not occur to Marcus until after the fact was to actually tell his friends that he was catching a red eye to god knew where on a Wednesday morning with someone they definitely would be alarmed over. The thought didn't cross his mind for many reasons, really, chiefly that he had been stuck on pack mule duty after rushing to put together some semblance of luggage while Jordi criticized his taste in fashion from his bed. His lack of suits seemed particularly offensive, even though he had been able to pull one out of his closet. If it hadn't been good enough, whatever, he didn't pack it anyway. Regardless, Marcus had been saddled with his luggage in addition to Jordi’s luggage.

Getting to the airport at least had not been too much of a trial, even if on the way Marcus had been tempted to crash the car he'd been using. After two hours of what could never in a million years pass as sleep, Jordi seemed like he could run a marathon as if he'd gotten the best sleep of his life. Marcus had to wonder if he normally _ever_ slept. On the same note, Marcus felt like he'd been run over by a monster truck with a vanity plate that said JORDI on it, and that may as well have been reality. Jordi had not made it any easier by making his usual complaints about the Sanfran weather that Marcus was used to, along with his music choice, his driving, pretty much everything.

One parked car that would be abandoned and a quick crisis about how last he knew he'd been on a no fly list later, Jordi had supplied his documentation and shuffled him into their boarding area. Apparently, ‘suffering in economy’ had been a gross overstatement either meant to grate on Marcus’ nerves, or because Jordi truly considered first class suffering for some reason. It had been clean, spacious, quiet. At least, quiet enough to let his head press back into the plush headrest, and try and will away his pending migraine. Not quiet enough to sleep, unfortunately, and definitely not quiet enough to mask Jordi running up an impressive tab on in-flight alcohol.

He felt like he was in a perpetual state of twilight, despite the sun burning a hole through his eyelids for a very long period of time and despite the fuzzy feeling that plagued him as if cotton was filling his entire head. The sounds of the plane were like a horrible rushing tinnitus, and the quiet murmur of first class had him a bit anxious, if he were honest. Marcus felt on edge, a weird, acidic fluttering in his chest as questions about where they were going and what they were doing filled his head. He had to wonder if he’d been semi-willingly kidnapped, that’s what it felt like. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t interested in whatever this was, especially if he was taking a back seat and letting someone else do the dirty work for once. If it was just hacking, well, he’d hacked _space_ before almost no sweat. This would probably be easy.

Only after they had landed did Marcus realize they were in Taipei. Truthfully, he had tuned out all of the flight announcements, his ticket, pretty much everything. They’d left SFO around nine in the morning, and touched down around 11pm at TPE. At first, Marcus had been dumbfounded. Jordi had pushed him along to immigration, then to the baggage claim, and out to the street where they caught a cab. Marcus was exhausted, and also starving; he hadn’t been hungry when food had been brought around on the plane, and he’d forced coffee into his system on the ground at SFO, but really that had been about it. Especially since Marcus had been in and out of the least restful sleep he had ever gotten, and that he’d been running around for what felt like centuries before this whole thing had started.

Jordi speaking what he was gonna assume was flawless Mandarin next to him while he settled bonelessly into the hard plastic cab seat was just another surreal addition to the bright lights sliding sluggishly by as he stared out the window. Maybe it wasn’t the best time for a soft, floaty playlist of music coming from his headphones in an effort to keep himself calm out of pure necessity at this point, because he could feel it lulling him when he should have been at full awareness. His phone was still in airplane mode, and he wasn't ready to take it off yet and no doubt see worried notifications from his friends. He would deal with that later when his head wasn't swirling.

When the cab finally stopped outside what Marcus was assuming was the hotel, Jordi lightly backhanded his stomach and said, “Alright, c’mon.”

“Man, this sucks,” Marcus groaned, feeling lethargic on another level while he took a second to blink away the fuzz in his vision.

“On the contrary, this is a _great_ hotel. Whenever I book, I don't even gotta ask for those little chocolate mints on the pillows, they're just _there_ ,” Jordi was quiet for a moment while Marcus struggled out of the seat and around back to get his luggage from the trunk.

“Stuff ‘em up your ass, Jordi.”

“That's right! You hate those, and that's suh-uh-uch a shame, they are _so good_ ,” he said, laughing as he herded Marcus toward the lobby.

Check in was quick enough, and by the time they were in the elevator and up to their room, Marcus barely had time to look around before feeling like he was going to fall asleep on his feet. All he could register was Jordi directing him to a door, and behind it was a bed that he laid down on near immediately. Everything was a blur until he was asleep, until he was drifting along in unconsciousness forgetting everything that was plaguing his thoughts. Falling asleep was easy, because it meant he could avoid processing what was going on. That he had hopped a plane to Taipei, left his friends behind, blindly trusted a dude who nearly got him killed multiple times. His own bleeding heart would be his end, but the bed was comfortable and he was out before the door to his space had even closed and he was left alone.

Waking up was much harder, a gnawing emptiness in his stomach, dizzy, pounding headache. As if he had a hangover from hell, groaning as sunlight washed over his face from the window at the side of the bed. He felt like his head was full of raging static, and he wondered if this was what it felt like waking up from a coma, his body refusing to move until Marcus felt himself creaking to life as he found his awareness. Well, mostly aware. It took a minute to remember his circumstances. Marcus jolted into awareness, reaching for his phone in his pocket, finding it missing before he pat the bed and found it tangled in the comforter he had been laying in top of. In clothing he'd need wearing for probably three days now. Smelling like he'd been dead for three days.

It wasn't a more pressing concern than eating, but Marcus was not about to navigate trying to find something to satiate his hunger. Not to mention it was going to be easier to clean up and at least feel like a human being again. Marcus vaguely remembered seeing the bathroom as he walked into the hotel room in a daze, so he headed to it after plugging his phone in to charge. It was just past nine in the morning, but Marcus hadn’t dared to take his phone off of airplane mode to get a million messages flooding into his phone that he had no doubt would be there. He would deal with all of that later.

The bathroom was sleek; it was very smooth and polished and modern looking. Marcus hadn’t really gotten a good look at the hotel itself, if he were honest, having been in too much of a daze the previous night to take a good look. On first inspection of his room and the connecting area, it also looked very modern and maybe a bit too luxurious for his taste. Now, though, he was grateful for the marble tile floor not being ice cold, and for the shower instantly being hot (once he had figured out how to work it). His clothes went into a neat pile on the floor, and he stepped in and drew the curtain. Complimentary hotel soaps in hand, because of course his dumb ass had forgotten to pack anything but a couple pairs of clothing.

Marcus relaxed into the spray, standing there for at least five minutes motionless trying to take everything in about his situation, trying to wake himself up more in the process as well. Why exactly had Jordi chosen him? If that was even his real name, but, the answer had sounded honest at the time, even if Marcus had been pissed off about the shoes on his bed, amongst other things. Like the break in. That was another thing, how had he found his apartment? Marcus made sure to keep it as off the map as possible. He had a different name he was renting it under, and the landlady only accepted cash for rent. It was shady and perfect for his general lifestyle, she didn’t ask questions, and Marcus was barely around. It was just a place to keep his stuff, and to crash. Not exactly easy to find, but Jordi had done it so easily. Marcus would have to ask about that later, if he found a chance to.

Mid-quarter life crisis, and rinsing himself off of the hotel soap he’d lathered up, he heard the door to the bathroom open, making him jump almost out of his skin. Recovering quickly, he said, “Man get out, I’m in here.”

“Don’t care,” Jordi followed up with a yawn, sounding somewhere between bored and fatigued. To Marcus’ extreme dismay, he heard a grunt from past the curtain, and the sounds of Jordi relieving himself.

“Fuckin’ nasty, I’m almost done, couldn’t you have waited like a _second_?”

“No. Do you ever stop whining for like a _second_?” Jordi asked, imitating his tone of voice which was a step away from absolutely infuriating. He settled for high key annoyed.

An extended moment passed, Marcus standing under the spray as he contemplated why exactly he’d agreed to this scenario. Marcus groaned, leaning back against the wall, waiting. And waiting. Finally saying, “Do you ever stop pissing?”

“Y’know you young people are gonna be like this one day, don’t take a quick piss for granted.”

“I’m sorry for the loss of your youth, but I shouldn’t be held prisoner for your enlarged prostate, or whatever the fuck the commercials on the nightly news say you need a pill for,” Marcus said, breathing a sigh of relief when he heard the sound of flushing. Then the sound of the sink, but it went on longer than just a hand washing, and Marcus was exasperated to hear the sound of teeth being brushed. “No, c’mon, I’m being held hostage now.”

The sound of brushing stopped for a moment while Jordi’s muffled voice said, “Tough shit.”

“Can you at least throw me a towel so I can leave?” To emphasize his point, Marcus turned the shower off, standing there, dripping as the brushing started back up. Seconds later, a towel was thrown over the curtain. A hand towel, because of _course_ it was a hand towel, “Are you fuckin’ serious right now?” Half shouted, but Marcus started drying himself best as he could with it anyway.

There was no answer, and the brushing continued, with no signs of stopping. Marcus pulled back the curtain just enough and leaned down to pick his glasses up from where he put them on top of his clothing, putting them on. He made a decision right there, really not wanting to crawl back into his nasty, many days old stale clothing, and that decision was coming back for the pile later and escaping with his dignity in shreds with a hand towel covering his dick. “Don't look,” said, as he drew back the curtain.

Jordi spit into the sink, locking eyes with Marcus through the mirror (with the condensation wiped away because of-fuckin’-course it was, seeming unimpressed on the whole with his bullshit. “I've seen a million asses before kid, yours ain't special.”

“You're inconsiderate, and I don't appreciate it.”

“And I don't appreciate the sass, but I'm not gonna accept that blemish on my sparkling character. I've been nothing but a fucking gentleman this whole time,” he said, straightening up and wiping his mouth with a towel. Jordi pointed his toothbrush at him and continued, “We've got a lot of ground to cover today so if you're done being blushingly modest, you've got breakfast coming, we have plans to go over, and a building to infiltrate, so I hope you got your beauty sleep.”

The notion of breakfast resonated deeply within him, and for a split second he was grateful at the thoughtful gesture, but while he was half frozen in place in a stupor, Jordi walked over and bent down to pick up his nasty clothes to shove them at his chest. “Another thing, these? I'm tempted to burn them; for what we're doing, we gotta get you a proper suit. None of this cheap shit, but we'll go over the details later. Now get the fuck outta my face, chop chop.”

Marcus awkwardly held his rank clothing to his chest with one arm, his other hand holding a small towel to his dick while Jordi looked completely unphased. Naked except for a tight pair of what had to be silk boxers based on the look of the fabric, his solid frame quite intimidating even if Marcus was about the same height as him, maybe a little bit taller. It was a lot to consider in the span of a second before he met Jordi’s eyes again.

“What, you gonna watch me shower?”

“Bye,” said immediately, forcefully, as he backed out of the bathroom and retreated back to where he'd woken up. Now that he was more awake, he could see the shared living area looked just as ridiculously luxurious, soft couch and a low table in front of it like this was some kind of apartment instead of a hotel room. His door was opposite another door which he was going to assume was where Jordi was staying.

His room was clean, simple. Big wide window overlooking the city, sizable bed against the wall, standard hotel dresser and television atop it, etcetera. Marcus finished drying off best as he could, digging in his luggage for something to put on. As soon as he'd done that, he went back into the living space, turning the tv on and setting the volume low while he took his laptop out and finally checked his phone. Once it was off airplane mode, the notifications flooded in. A few concerned ones from Sitara, a few random emails, and about a thousand from Wrench in various states of panic over his whereabouts, telling him to call him immediately, text him back, anything.

His stomach dropped, remembering being too exhausted to function and pushing this off for when he could. He still felt like he was going to collapse any second since he was running on empty. Breakfast was coming to him per the asshole in the shower, but Marcus had a new anxiety for his best friend fretting over him. Especially because it had not been that long at _all_ since the Bratva had kidnapped him and almost killed him in a car crusher. Yeah, a disappearance for even _longer_ was gonna go over well. “Fuck,” Marcus swore softly to himself, deciding he would prolong this for a face to mask conversation. In the meantime, he sent him a text that said he was fine, that he would explain later when he got back. Before Wrench could answer, Marcus cut his connection with airplane mode again and instead readied himself for the eventual plans they would go over.

At the core of this, he was here to do a job, probably get paid, and do some serious good. He really didn’t care about the pay, but it was the principle alone of some douchebag deciding the fates of people based on bullshit, fabricated crime quotas. He had been under the impression that this would be in the states somewhere, or maybe even in Europe, the last place he had expected was China. That shit was more likely, he would have never guessed there was as big of a problem with it here, but the more he thought about it the more it made sense. Racism and classism and all the other -isms were concerns, Jordi had said so much. He had no idea what racism in China was like, but there really were _so_ many different ethnic groups within a population so large.

There was a knock on the door, and Marcus was unsure if he should get up and get it. It was a hot moment before he remembered that Jordi said something about breakfast, and his stomach had him getting up before he could stop himself, his feet carrying him to the door. Looking out the peephole, there was a hotel employee with a cart parked next to the wall, a tray balanced on the edge of it while she knocked again. When he opened the door, she looked surprised, side eyeing to look at the room number on the wall outside the door, and looking at her list again.

“Um, hey?”

“Room service for Mr. Derringer,” she said with a medium accent.

Derringer? Marcus would have to ask him more about the identity shit. He stepped aside to let her inside, and she grabbed the tray to bring it in, setting it on the low table in the common area. “Uh, thank you.”

She looked around for a moment, coming to her own understanding and nodding to herself before meeting his eyes as she said, “Mr. Derringer has never had a guest before.”

Pausing on that, he could feel his head tilting as he asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She did not flinch, straight faced as she said, “Ah, my apologies, I meant nothing. Please, enjoy.” Bowing slightly before walking away, she was soon out of the room and closing the door, leaving him puzzled.

Puzzled, and starving. He didn’t wait for Jordi to join him before stuffing his face, barely noticing Jordi slip into the other room at some point. After a few minutes, and while Marcus was staring at the TV trying not to feel sluggish after eating so much, so fast, Jordi joined him in a fresh suit, “Anyone over at the dorkspace ever feed you? Jesus Christ.”

“Been a minute since I ate, what of it?” Humming, Jordi moved on and pushed everything on the table to the side, laying out a _literal_ map. Marcus immediately sat up and said, “Shit, you weren’t kidding about going over infiltration plans. You actually have a _map_?”

“Bet your ass I have a map, your little screen isn’t big enough. Get up,” Jordi stood up, nodding in the direction of the big window with the sheer curtains still drawn even though the heavy ones were pushed back. Jordi opened them up, pointing out toward the city, “You see that? C’mere,” Marcus was dragged closer by his sleeve, right next to Jordi. He caught a whiff of hotel soap and expensive cologne, but instead of examining that, he looked out toward the horizon.

His eyes caught sight of the looming skyscraper in the distance, so much taller than everything else around it. “The tall one?”

“‘The tall one’, you know what you're looking at?” He sounded marginally insulted, but also amused at the question.

“I'm not big into Chinese architecture, should I know?”

“That is Taipei one-oh-one. It held the record for tallest building in the world until Burj Khalifa in Dubai was completed in 2009. It also held the world record for fastest elevator, could go from the 5th to the 89th floor in 37 seconds until Shanghai tower broke the record in 2016. It's designed to withstand typhoons and earthquakes, and it is a symbol of modern Taiwan in an age where rapid globalization mandates that if they don't keep up with the rest of the world they will fall behind permanently,” Jordi took a breath, nodding back to the map on the table, “I've got the floor plans and building blueprints over there.”

Marcus walked away from the window, going back to the couch, sitting down and dragging the thick stack of paper closer to inspect the blueprint on top. He decided to not address the encyclopedic knowledge of the building that Jordi had, lest he get more trivia. “Guessing the 101 comes from the hundred and one floors.”

“Not counting the five lower levels, but yeah. The guy we're looking for is gonna be in the VIP club on floor 101, aptly named Summit 101. It’s this super exclusive nightclub that if you want to get into and you're not a celebrity or of known importance, you’ve gotta spend over one mil NTs in the mall inside the tower,” Jordi walked over, sitting down and leaning forward, pointing at the 101st floor.

“And what’s NTs to USD?”

“Chump change, just under 33 grand. Part of this plan involves me spending enough to get invited up there. That’s where our guy is gonna be.”

Marcus didn’t know what world Jordi lived in where ‘chump change’ was thirty three thousand dollars, but that thought was definitely him growing up poor. “Where do I come in?”

“You are going to be my distraction. The security is out of this fucking world, as soon as anything goes wrong up there, the whole building is gonna be on lockdown. I’m going to take our guy down, and when that happens, I need some shit big enough to slip away unnoticed. I’ll leave that to you, I know you’re creative under pressure.”

“Right, like I got creative when you sicked cops and Bratva and shit on me.”

“You ever gonna stop fucking whining about that?” Before Marcus could answer, Jordi continued, “There’s actually three levels to this 101st floor. Lower, mezzanine, and the roof. So, I’ve gotta have enough time to search this guy out, waste him, and get out.”

“So, I’m gonna need to get into the system, find how to exploit the weakness, and shut shit down so you can escape after your hit. What else can you tell me about this place, how do you get up?”

“Good question, how _do_ I get up?” Jordi pulled the pile of blueprints over to himself, flipping through them until he found an elevator map, taking it from the stack and looking it over, shoving it on top of the table and spreading it out. “Let’s start from the bottom. There’s the car park elevators that go from the five lower levels, above ground for a few, then you have to switch. There’s the observation elevators which shoot right up to the deck toward the top. There’s the passenger elevators that stop at all the floors with offices or shops and shit on ‘em. The service elevators which stop at every floor…”

“Until 89, where most of them cut off. Then, there’s the elevator switch,” Marcus pointed at the map, toward the top of the tower after 91. “You’ve gotta switch and take a different one up to the top.”

“Right. Which begs the question of how I'm getting the fuck out of there once it's done, that's what I can't get around,” Jordi mumbled, picking the blueprint back up and scrutinizing it. “I feel like I'm missing something.”

Marcus stared at it at an angle, grabbing at the closest edge to him and pulling it over so he could see it more clearly. “Yeah, I think you are missing something,” said thoughtfully as he could feel the gears turning in his head as he tried to make sense of the blueprint. There _was_ something missing, and his eyes weren't finding it. “There only the one elevator up there? Wouldn't make sense if there's a bunch of rich dudes kickin’ it up to the top floor and no service elevator so the workers can remain unseen, where the fuck is it,” Marcus snatched the whole sheet of paper up and put it on the table, grabbing for the pile of blueprints again.

“That's some smart thinking, that would make sense that they'd hide that from the public records for the very reason I'm going up there now.”

Flipping through, Marcus kept an eye out for a closeup of the plans of the upper floors, trying to pinpoint where a hidden service elevator might be hiding. “Public records my ass, they wouldn't make these floor plans visible,” muttering as he flipped back and forth between pages. “The fuck are you…”

“Alright kid, you got me, but I'm not telling you how I got these plans.”

Back and forth, Marcus sifted through the pages, looking for any place there might be an inconsistency. “Wish this was digital so I could blow this up and pick around in it.”

“Well this was as good as I got on short notice.”

Marcus ignored him, taking his glasses off so he could look closer. Instead, he asked, “What's on these floors? After 91?”

“They call those communication floors, but they're just another mystery of good ‘ol Taipei 101. Nobody knows what the fuck’s up there, if there's even any broadcasting from them. Don't particularly care, either; it's not related to the job.”

After a few more moments, Marcus found what he was looking for and said, “I think… there. Right there,” Marcus said, pointing at a space on the floor plans for 89 that didn't quite match up with the rest of the blueprints. “That's probably an access elevator, it's just out of the way enough that we can probably get you out once it's done, and nobody will notice us.”

“No shit,” Jordi said, huffing a quiet laugh as he took the plan back and spread it out on the table. “Good eye, I completely missed that.”

Marcus could hear the note of praise in his voice, satisfied to be of use. “Your guy, is it just an assassination and that's it?”

“Client wants his personal device too.”

“Yeah, we crack that, we golden. With it we can probably access all kinds of shady shit–”

“Yeah, don't get your hopes up, none of your heroics releasing activism video shit to get your piddly little group attention. This is for my client to blow open, and it's _my_ contract, and you're on a subcontract. Data stays with me, and I'll discretely leave it for my client,” Jordi didn't look at him as he checked his watch for the time. “Like I said, I'm leaving the particulars of my escape to you. I don't care what the fuck you do or how the fuck you do it, but all I need you for is to make a distraction.”

No room for argument, but Marcus still wanted to pursue it, “But with that kind of information we could–”

Jordi looked at him with a look on his face that Marcus could not place. “You got ears? What'd I just say? This ain't Sanfran, this ain't small time. My other guy? You know, the one that threw me off a fucking lighthouse? He did some stupid shit like you're thinking and it ruined his life, got his family killed, other sentimental shit like that. You don't deviate, we have no problem. You do, and I can't watch out for you; I don't care if you've hacked space before and dipped your toes in the rest of the world. Not your crusade, you're only facilitating it running smoothly, got it?” Jordi said, voice even and calm as he spoke, but that hint of frustration and finality that left no room for argument.

“Shit, yeah, fine,” Marcus said, feeling a bit more of the gravity of the situation. It just sucked that it was true, he was in international affairs that had no bearing on him. Didn't mean he liked taking a back seat to a scandal that needed to be blown open. “I'll stick to this; we gotta get me up to the 89th access.”

Jordi considered him for a moment, nodding. “Good. We've got a lot of shit to do today, and I've gotta dispose of these maps like. Yesterday. Once we hit this job, we aren't coming back to this hotel. It's straight to the airport.”

“Hold up then,” Marcus took out his phone and snapped some pictures of what he'd need. “I think I've got something in mind, the stock exchange is there, right?”

“Yeah, not sure which floor it’s on, but there’s a lot of office space that deals in financial stuff. What’re you thinking?”

If they needed a distraction, he was thinking something big to cause as much chaos as possible. “I'm still working on it, but it'll be done by the time we have to do it. What's the schedule today?”

“It's,” Jordi looked at his watch, “Quarter of. I've got something to take care of real quick, and then we’re gonna get you some new duds at the area’s hottest mall. We’re gonna meander about a bit, I'm gonna go up to the super secret exclusive club, bang this job out by midnight, get you home in time for dinner tomorrow.”

So, this really wasn't a long job. Straightforward enough, except, “What you mean about new duds?”

“You look like a fucking art school vagabond.”

Marcus looked down at himself, plucking at his shirt, “You just don't appreciate street fashion.” He bristled a bit, looking back up at him and grimacing.

“I can _not_ wear a nice suit and have you next to me looking fuckin’ homeless, kid. I have too much self respect, and I know for a fact that you can do justice to a suit—even if all of yours are cheap garbage,” he said, moving to stand up. Gesturing toward the maps, he continued, “You good with these?”

“Yeah, I'm good…” He'd taken what pictures he'd needed, but more importantly, the backhanded compliment threw him off a bit. “When we leaving?”

“‘Bout half an hour,” he said, walking past with the maps and reaching to the tray of forgotten breakfast to take one of the cups of coffee. “Waiting for the car, my guy is stuck across town. Pack up your shit, don't forget anything.”

He had packed up quickly enough, going over the building plans on his laptop screen and trying to get together something concrete. Marcus had an idea as to what kind of distraction he wanted to cause, but it all hinged on the access elevator. They would have to scout it out once they got into the building.

They checked out when Jordi got the message that the car was waiting, and Marcus was again tasked with luggage duty. The car itself was very inconspicuous, but still expensive looking. It just so happened that every car looked expensive on the road. The radio was off, leaving them in a bit of an awkward silence as Marcus stared out the window at the the scenery flying by. Modern buildings that looked like they housed fancy apartments and upscale business space.

Marcus was the first to break the silence, noticing that they weren’t headed for the tower that was steadily fading into the distance. “You said you’ve got something to take care of?”

“Don’t worry about it, it’s just a short detour.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Just a short detour to apparently beat the absolute piss out of some guy in an alley while he was held up by two men who looked like goons, Jordi yelling whatever crazy shit at him in Chinese. The guy lived, but he was seriously fucked up when Jordi walked away, moments after one of the goons gave him a small package. It was a display of raw power that Marcus didn't know how to feel about, besides at very base admiring the fluidity of his movements and how truly intimidating he was, having been on the receiving end before. Marcus was more than glad he was a spectator, even if it was a bit disturbing. Dude had moves.

Still, he went easier on the guy than he had on Anton, and Marcus remembered watching that fight through the camera. It had almost been like he was playing with Anton, bringing that short conversation back to mind where Jordi said he had a play date with him. Watching him do his infiltration work and wasting Bratva left and right had been weirdly thrilling, especially at the grand finale when Marcus had shut down the ransomware. Snapping Anton’s neck, shooting the camera. Almost like it had all been a show, prolonging his death to play games and make it more dramatic.

As soon as Jordi was back in the car, despite the train of thought, Marcus said, “You’re fucking insane, you know that?”

Jordi laughed, tossing the cloth wrapped package to him which he caught awkwardly, the contents rattling around inside. “Sounds like you can’t appreciate a good shakedown. Not that it has any bearing on what we’re doing, but another guy of mine needed a quick scare for some grunt that fucked up on an operation. Since I was around, out of the kindness of my heart I helped out.” Taking a breath, Jordi drove out the other side of the alley, heading back into the city. “Now, I dunno what the fuck that is, but open it.”

“I guess,” Marcus said, untying the knot of the soft, sturdy fabric. It took a moment, but the knot came loose, cloth coming off easily after. A plain box sat inside, and Marcus opened it, heart nearly palpitating out of his chest when he saw a juicy piece of tech that was im-fucking-possible to get. Anywhere. “What the fuck,” whisper-shouted, “Dude where the fuck did this come from?”

“All I know is apparently it's got some encrypted data that nobody knows how to crack open. My guys’ve tried for months after it got in their hands and they don't know what to do with it. Nobody can get into that shit. Personally, I don't care, but I mentioned I'd picked up a hacker on par with my last guy, and they practically threw it at me to get to you,” Jordi sounded more irritated by it than anything. “I guess they went through monumental lengths to get it, only to find out they can't bypass the crypto password firewalls.”

Groaning, Marcus said, “You sound like my grandma after watching a 60 Minutes special on hackers. Fuckin’, hold on,” Marcus got his phone out, taking it off of airplane and ignoring the wave of notifications he was getting. His laptop bag came off his back next, pulling a cord from one of the pockets so he could connect his phone to it and get onto a secure server for the data dump he was about to attempt.

Not to mention, he loved a challenge. If some Chinese assholes couldn't figure out what to do with it, Marcus would, and he would do it in the time it took for them to get to the tower. They drove in relative silence, Marcus tinkering away with code and trying to break through the encryption. To the device’s credit, whoever didn't want him getting in was thorough, but he bypassed it as soon as he found the weak link, the emergency thread of code which would dissolve the whole security on it. It took him a little longer than expected, but the code was pretty damn clean.

As soon as he was in, Marcus laughed condescendingly at the device, getting his laptop out once his phone was uploading all of the data to his private server to pick through. He connected his phone, appreciating the smoothness of their commute while he opened up all the files.

“Jesus Christ it took you like fifteen fucking minutes,” Jordi said what sounded like incredulously, both of them sitting at a stop light close to the building. “And my guys couldn't crack it after weeks.”

“Listen, I know you're skeptical at my genius,” Jordi huffed a laugh, and Marcus continued, “But I'll be the first to say it _was_ tough. You just gotta know what to look for.”

“Y’know what, I'm liking this useful you, keep it up and I'll even buy you some presents.”

Marcus didn't comment on that, not sure what to even say. Jordi was definitely an… odd person. Very odd, a bit eccentric, but absolutely fucking crazy too. He didn't know what to make of him, especially when he said something like that. Especially after the last time they'd parted, he'd told Marcus to turn himself into the police for him. He'd been generally infuriating, genuinely an asshole, and Marcus had been on edge the entire short time he'd been in his life.

He wouldn't say much about his comfort level right now, because he was still absolutely on edge around him, but Marcus was marginally more receptive. Marcus could only guess it was because he had been approached this time instead of a weird string of events that had gotten both of them to achieve their objectives. Turning the device over in his hands, he decided to dispose of it, wiping the contents and frying the hard drive with a virus that overloaded it. In the meantime, Jordi had pulled underground, Marcus barely getting a look at the tower before they had gone in the garage. It was pure luck that there had been a spot on the first floor, close to the elevator.

Before they headed up though, Jordi went over their itinerary, “First, I'm embarrassed that you're dressed like you're poor, so we’re heading into the mall. I don't need anything, so, whatever your heart desires, go fuckin’ crazy and get it.”

“Wait, like, you just want me to spend 33 grand and that's cool?”

“This contract has a loooot of zeros on it, kid. 33 Gs isn't gonna hurt the bank,” Jordi said dismissively.

Yeah, he wasn't a saint either and definitely had hacked into bank accounts left and right without a lot of remorse, but those were mostly small transactions, or from people who wouldn't miss bigger amounts. That much in one pop was… a lot. More than he could ever justify to himself. “Aight, I can do that.”

“Suit shop, and then wherever else your little heart desires.”

“Could definitely use some new tech then, if I'm gonna get into the network here. That'll rack up pretty quickly,” Marcus said, packing everything back into his bag. “Again, you sure it's cool?”

“For the hundredth time, it's _required_ , you got cardboard in your ears? C’mon,” Jordi got out of the car and Marcus followed. Marcus was holding the fried device in his hands wondering again how to dispose of it when Jordi grabbed it from him and tossed it in a trash can near the elevator bank.

There were a bunch of other people waiting, and they didn't talk up to the mall level 2F, getting off with the crowd. Marcus followed Jordi, and as soon as the ambient mall noise kicked in, he said, “Why we got so much time to kill?”

“I imagined you wanted to have a bit of time to get into the system and figure out what the plan is.”

“Oh, I’ve got a plan,” Marcus said, looking at his phone and doing a proxy hack for a general overview of everyone in the vicinity. Rich kids with no real net worth, kids pretending to be rich  so, a standard mall crowd.

“Already? That was quick.”

“Yeah, but we should still head up to check the access level out so I can get it concrete.”

That would come later, when there were more people to get lost in later on in the day, around shift changes and meal breaks. For now though, Jordi really was herding him into a suit shot, holy shit. He really wasn't joking. Marcus stood back while he had a quick conversation with the girl at the counter, pointing at him as they spoke. She was nodding, taking notes as he spoke. Then, he was beckoned closer.

Into a fitting.

He was forced into a private dressing room with a tailor and Jordi watching; from that moment on Marcus knew he would know no peace this day. The measuring tape came out, and then different suit cuts came out for him to try on, Jordi making comments that Marcus couldn't understand. He was pulled, pushed, pinned, and prodded. In his goddamn drawers as he waited for his suffering to end.

“Hey, we almost done here?”

“Not yet, kid. Now shut up and let her finish.”

They spoke back and forth like Marcus wasn't in the room with them, as swatches of fabric were held up to him and judged. When he was finally released from his suit fashion prison, he was shoved into a suit that looked… really good. Like, _really_ good. Sharp. It was almost perfectly fitted, but it was clearly off the rack. He had no idea what happened to his clothing he came in with, but after a brief stop at the register, it was clear he was leaving this store with at least one suit, and who knew how many others on order? Expensive shoulder bag for his electronics that sat the same way on his back as his older one.

It felt unnecessary, but apparently this was part of the job so truthfully, Marcus would take it. He did actually like wearing suits, but the ones he usually wore were off the rack and could fit so much better. Even the more expensive ones never quite fit well.

He didn't know how much was spent, he didn't want to know. Jordi swiped his plastic and they were walking out of the store before he knew it. “So…”

“You'll get a delivery in a couple of weeks, but this will do for now.”

“This suit?”

“Does it fit? Looks like it does, but you'll be getting some customs.”

“Like, I know it's for the job and that's cool and all that shit, but this is like the exact opposite of my IOU for those fancypants I destroyed with my taser.”

“Yeah, you gotta work on your aim, kid. Eventually.”

“My aim is just fuckin’ fine, you pointed the gun at me first,” Marcus said, adjusting his collar on the shirt. “But anyway, we at goal yet?”

“Not even close. C’mon, you need new electronics? There's a shop on the next floor up, if you need something for the job or something new in general, buy yourself the most expensive shit. Not what you need, what you _want_. We've got a lot of NTs to go, we only spent about a quarter of what we needed to.”

A quarter, only about eight grand. On _suits_? What and _how_ the fuck. “The fuck am I supposed to spend 25 grand on?”

“I am _sure_ we can figure it the fuck out in an expensive mall like this,” Jordi said, looking around, almost sounding bored with the situation. “B1 is where the Somy store is, here,” Jordi handed his card over to him, to Marcus’ confusion. “Pin is 2436, I'm gonna go take care of something real quick, but I'll meet you in the store.”

“Do I even wanna know?”

“Proooobably not. It's secret, and _fun_ ,” Jordi said in that way that implied that it would be fun for him for sure, but lethal to literally anyone else.

“Yeah fuck your definition of fun, man.” Turning the card over between his fingers, he thought about it, and continued, “Aight, I'll spend your money.”

“Buy yourself something nice, go crazy. Remember, 25 grand. Hit that limit, oh, wait,” Jordi stopped and pulled a pen and a pad of paper from inside his jacket pocket. “If you need any shit delivered, have it sent here,” Jordi wrote while he spoke, tearing it out and handing it to Marcus who could not read the kanji. “A fake, but it will be forwarded to your home courtesy of my guy.”

“Better not be through China Post, that shit takes forever.”

“It's not one of your freaky knockoff cartoon jerkoff statues, it'll probably be there in a week tops. Now, I'm gonna run late, _go_.”

They separated, and Marcus found the Somy story easily enough once he stopped at a mall directory map. Truly, it was huge, full of expensive shit. However, spending 25 grand was going to be quite a feat.

He looked at the selection of small, powerful laptops, at the tablets and desktops and everything in between. Smart watches, cameras, everything they had to offer. The upgrades, the top of the line shit as well as the shit that _said_ it was top of the line but really wasn't. He was glad he had a critical eye for this shit, because even if he was looking to hit a limit he didn't want to hit it with upcharged, bad shit.

The tech was shiny, and he spent a good amount of time checking the specs of the stuff he was considering purchasing. Half because his care in choosing stuff, half to kill time. There were a few employees who came up trying to help, but he took pity and said he was browsing, because he didn't want to be an asshole by saying he knew more. It was abundantly clear however that just the same as if he were in a similar store back home, he was being watched. Even a nice suit didn't negate that, which was disappointing.

Once he had gone through the stock, he started piling up his immediately necessary physical purchases, having stuff brought up to the counter and trying to add it up in his head. This was fucking absurd, and _so_ much money. New laptop, upgrades to it. Headphones. Expensive parts for the rigs back at the hackerspace that he was going to get delivered. Deluxe this, speaker system that, big smart television, computer monitors. He had a pretty huge digital cart, the rest he was ready to walk out of the store with. By the time it was all being rung up and Marcus could see the running total, they were _so_ close to goal.

His momma would have a heart attack if she knew what he was doing and how much he was spending.

The first snag in this plot was when he was asked for his ID, which was kinda bullshit in the first place since he wasn't using credit, it was debit. Not to say he couldn't understand that there were rules in place that the employees had to adhere to, but he didn't want to cause a scene about this. Especially because the name on the card was Jesse Derringer, which his own fake identification didn't match at all. His passport had ’Marcio Acevedo’ on it, not even close.

Second, he had no idea where Jordi was since he'd fucked off. Didn't have his cell number, couldn't check in with him. So, really, this situation with being asked for ID and being denied the sale when he didn't match the card really sucked.

Third, there was probably some racism drizzled into this.

“With all due respect, sir, it's a _debit_ card. I shouldn't have to be ID’d for that.”

“I understand the frustration, but store policy…”

He felt like he was about to transform into Karen and grow a lopsided blonde bob so he could justify asking for a manager. Fuck, he would card someone trying to buy thousands of dollars of merchandise too if he worked at a store like this. “I have authorization to use this card from the cardholder, I shouldn't need that in writing if I have the PIN number, there's no signature.”

The sales clerk looked like he was fighting for words, and he probably was, poor kid knowing probably multiple languages and having to speak retail English to some shady guy who looked like he was trying to scam them, wearing a nice suit and with a card that wasn't his own. “I… I am going to get the manager.”

“Yeah, call them out here, thank you.”

This situation truly was embarrassing, knowing he was calling attention to himself, knowing he'd probably be leaving here empty handed at this point. It took a minute or so, but he was being addressed by the manager, who looked marginally more put together. Last thing Marcus wanted to do was pull a ‘I'll be speaking to corporate’ because he had no intention of that, but it felt like this was the direction it was headed. He just didn't want to have the cops called on him.

As if sensing that he was about to be in a shitty situation, Jordi came out of nowhere, walking up to the counter and standing close as he said, “There a problem here?”

“Ah, I will be with you in a moment, sir.”

“No no no, you misunderstand, he is with me. Is there a problem?”

“Lil’ bit, I'm trying to pay, and I'm being ID’d.”

“It's a fuckin’ debit card, it's got a PIN number,” Jordi said a bit quieter, clearly to him but so the attendant could overhear. He turned back to the manager and repeated himself, “It’s a debit card, it's got a PIN number, why do you need an ID?”

“I-I'm sorry, sir, but I need to see an ID for a purchase this large.”

“Not used to seeing people flash money around here? I find that _really_ hard to believe. Fine,” Jordi opened his suit and reached into an inside pocket and pulled out his passport, opening it and handing it over, then saying something in Chinese that had the other man frantically apologizing. At least, he was assuming so based on the body language and change in atmosphere as employees went back to what they were doing. Marcus watched him compare the card to the passport, apparently being proof enough to proceed with the sale. He was more than glad for the save, and Marcus watched Jordi speak lowly while the manager seemed to be still apologizing.

Once that was all done and behind him, they walked out of the shop, Jordi saying, “It had a fucking PIN.”

“That's what I'm saying man, I shouldn't have been carded for that. Think it's ‘cause I'm black?”

“Definitely because you're black. Chinese racism ain't nothin’ to fuck with, especially with the kinda damage you did. Speaking of, we’re still short. You need a watch? I know could use a new one.”

That was how Marcus ended up with a new watch that cost way too much money, and of course a new computer that he was hooking up to the closest non-public wifi connection after taking a few minutes to catch the password from the dedsec IRC, waiting only for someone to come back with it from a Chinese contact and given to him in a PM. Jacked into the building wifi and setting his new piece up, hooking his phone into it so he could get all the software he needed to do what he had to do. His plan was still half baked, but it was coming together way nicer once he could get the digital layout of the tower. He had camera access, able to get into the upper floors with no trouble.

Jordi throwing around money for an invite to Summit 101 was working to his advantage, currently sat in another exclusive restaurant in a private corner so Marcus could angle his screen away from prying eyes. Back to the wall as he worked and letting Jordi take care of ordering food for them since he was busy with this. He was trying to get to the 89th access, but there seemed to be no cameras reachable. Marcus definitely didn't want to step up there without seeing it first to make sure it was safe to do so.

“All that shit working alright?”

“Yeah, it's good. But,” might as well ask now that they were alone and had the time, especially while trying to find a way into a visual for the floor. “I had a question.”

“Shoot.”

“How the hell did you do, like, _any_ of this? Like, find me, know enough about me to know I'm on a no fly list and get me a fake ID and passport. All without knowing I'd agree? Not to mention the fuck is this name, Marcio Acevedo? I don't even look Latinx, man.”

Jordi huffed out a laugh before he said, “That's racist and ignorant is what that is, are you implying that Hispanic people can't be black?”

“Fuck off Derringer, speaking of, the fuck kinda name is Derringer?” His eyes were still scanning the area for any other in, and other camera close to where he needed it to be.

“Problem with it? I think it's a great name,” he said sounding mock hurt. Or for real hurt, Marcus couldn't tell.

“And Jesse?”

“What? I had a cousin with that name, always liked it.” That sounded _sincere_ , maybe even a bit wistful as Jordi sighed, tapping his fingers on the table as they waited. Had was a keyword there that Marcus didn't miss, though that was a personal detail that this man of mystery shared for seemingly no reason. “Anyway, they were carefully picked names. I guess you got me, I didn't know if you'd come along, but if you'd agreed and I didn't have documents ready, then how would you be here?”

“I mean, yeah, but fuck man how did you find my house? I'm off the fuckin’ map with that one.”

“Don't underestimate me kid, I've been in this game longer than you. I can find a person that don't wanna be fuckin’ found, not like it was _hard_. You gotta work on stealth, not just keeping your digital record clear. It was _easy_ ,” Jordi said from the top of his water glass before taking a drink.

Marcus made a face at him, “Yeah, whatever man.”

Marcus focused instead on the building plans while he waited for food. Even after inhaling breakfast, he was still starving, and he was appreciating that they were sitting down and out of the way. Apparently spending money took a lot out of him, probably combined with jet lag and the absurdness of this situation in general. He could feel a dull headache thudding behind his eyes, and he felt like taking a nap. Especially because they were only at around 3pm, and they were going to be here for… quite a long time.

Marcus eventually found what he was looking for on a body cam for a security guard walking the floor, which turned out to be so much better than expected. There was the service elevator, and the layout of the place made so much more sense now that he had a visual. In the meantime, he also figured out what the plan was while they ate and while he started putting code together. Maybe this would actually work smoothly for once instead of ending in a shitshow he had to do the legwork on.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“All clear.”

It was late now, most of the business space closed and the mall itself was about to close up for the night. The observation deck was getting ready to close down as well, the only thing remaining open being the exclusive nightclub. Marcus had stowed away in an unmonitored maintenance closet on the 89th around eight while Jordi’s fake account had been flagged as a big spender in the mall, an invitation given via confirmation code to his mobile phone. Something he had to flash to the security for the transfer elevator once he was ready to go up.

Marcus had pulled Jordi into the maintenance closet with him, cup of strong coffee in hand from the Tsarbucks downstairs. Once his temp station was set up, old hardware and new hardware side by side while he set everything up to go off once he got the signal, he ran the plan by Jordi. Now, it was time to watch and wait.

“How are we going to get you down?”

“You're sending the service elevator up, I thought we discussed this, kid,” Jordi had said, almost condescendingly.

“It'll draw attention to the escape, because if the service elevator goes up as this guy gets iced, security will notice. I'll lock the elevator from use, how do you feel about rappelling 12 floors?”

Jordi had smiled, full teeth and looking absolutely fucking ominous, “I like that, in fact, I fuckin’ _love_ that. Why didn't I think of that?”

“We don't got any gear for it though-”

“What? Nah, we don't need any gear, it'd slow me down and get me noticed. I've done worse drops.” Jordi had said dismissively, but Marcus wasn't gonna fucking argue that. Jordi was crazy anyway, he trusted he knew what he was doing.

They wrapped up some details, and then Jordi was off to go upstairs in the club and have a drink or two, blend in, and then off his mark as soon as he got there. Marcus watched the building cameras, watched the clock. This was actually… fun. Definitely nice since he wasn't the one doing the footwork on this, sitting back in a support role. He risked his neck all the fucking time, and it wasn't that he was mad for it but it was tiring. He'd let someone else take care of the dirty work for once.

While waiting for his signal, he thought about how Jordi said he'd be home in time for dinner tomorrow, and home reminded him that he still had to tell everyone where the fuck he'd gone off the grid to. That was gonna be a hard sell, ‘hey I went to Taipei and helped an assassin that almost killed me once’, yeah, that would go off well. Wrench was probably going to kill him anyway, but he couldn't say anything.

Two hours to himself, checking and double checking to make sure everything went off without a hitch. There were a few hidden cameras on a separate security network that Marcus accessed to keep track of Jordi, and it was clear that these were not meant to be known. He had no idea what shady shit those were recording, but Marcus would corrupt the footage regardless to keep Jordi off the record completely. He spent some time creating a script for that, another thing he’d hit enter on once the power went out.

Marcus had a visual on Jordi’s position, and he kept eyes on him, watching him order drinks and flirt with the runner. Granted, she was cute though, and some part of Marcus kind of wished he were up there having some fun too. Of course though, this was work and he was on the lookout for the signal. They had decided on Jordi getting up to make a call, heading toward the target.

Marcus’ finger was itching to hit the button, and as soon as he saw Jordi stand and reach into his pocket, Marcus hovered just over enter with one hand and waiting a moment to make sure it wasn't too early to send out the faux call with his other hand. Once Jordi answered, Marcus hit the button, on his computer, crashing the power grid in the whole building. Watching the camera closely, all he saw was Jordi’s bone chilling grin before the feed cut, and Marcus stared at the screen for a minute before corrupting the footage from the club. They were going to have a limited amount of time to pull this off. He'd already stopped the service elevator, and he'd gone over the floor plan of the club with Jordi so he could navigate to it, unlocking the employee door remotely so he didn't need a maintenance password to get through the door to it. All he had to do was wait for Jordi to come back to his closet hideout after rappelling down twelve fucking stories like it was no big deal.

He packed up in the meantime, knowing he was going to have to be ready to bounce pretty much immediately. Marcus wasn't disappointed, a knock on the door before he went to answer, Jordi strolling into the room like he hadn't just killed a dude. A phone was pressed into his chest as he said, “I'm trusting you to not do your hacker shit with that, hold onto that for me.”

“What, yeah, _fuck_ that was quick–”

“And _that_ was fuckin’ great, whole building is in a panic. The hell did you end up doing?”

“Shocked the power grid, crashed the financial servers. Gotta make it tough to figure out what happened,” Marcus said as he dropped the phone in his bag, zipping it up and keeping it secure.

“No shit,” Jordi said, actually sounding impressed. “Alright, let's move. You ever run down 90 flights of stairs?”

“No?” In the distance, Marcus could hear the dull panic of sirens, of people yelling in the main stairwells.

“Try and keep up,” Jordi said, huffing a laugh.

It was too late to argue as they left the maintenance closet, entering the closest stairwell and beginning the descent, framed by red emergency lights lighting the way. After the twentieth floor, his legs were feeling a little numb, by the fortieth floor down, he was winded and his muscles were burning. Sixty floors had him slowing down and his legs feeling like jelly. He knew going down stairs was way easier than going up the same amount, but this was fucking _ridiculous_.

Ten floors left, and Marcus was sluggish, huffing and completely out of breath as he managed, “Never doin’ this again,” deep breath, coughing a bit with the effort, “The _fuck_ , man.”

“Thought you had more stamina than that, get it together,” Jordi said, only sounding a little strained but _so_ fucking smug.

“‘Scuse me for not getting a fuckin’ personal trainer to prepare for this job I didn’t know about,” practically wheezed out at the end, gritting his teeth and trying to speed up. Definitely on autopilot now, and so ready to be on his way back to the airport. “Couldn’t’ve thought of a better escape?

“That was on _you_ to think of this shit, _not_ me,” and Jordi looks at him over his shoulder, “You’d rather we zipline a hundred fuckin’ stories down to the ground?”

Marcus had been about to reply when they finally, _finally_ reached the end, the merciful end where the parking garage was, and he could have kissed the fucking cement. “God, lemme catch my breath for a sec,” Marcus said, huffing, leaning against the wall as he took deep breaths, feeling sweaty and gross, ready to collapse. His coffee had been drank long ago, cup tossed in the first can they’d passed on the way to the stairwell. It had been ages since he’d eaten. Still running on empty from the morning after the most stressful, foggy day of his life.

“Alright, c’mon,” after a minute, Jordi opening the door and peeking his head out to watch if the coast was clear. Deeming it fine, he tugged on Marcus’ jacket and nodded him forward with him. They walked out into the pitch black carpark, Jordi with the car keys in hand and phone flashlight on in the other so they didn’t bump into anything. The last thing they needed was a car alarm going off and drawing attention to them as they made their escape.

Marcus’ heart rate was finally starting to return too normal, but then Jordi swore under his breath, putting his phone in his pocket and engulfing them in darkness for just a moment before a light shone in the distance. Marcus was about to ask what was going on, but Jordi grabbed him, and Marcus made a startled sound before Jordi said, “Shut up and kiss me.”

“The fuck—”

“Just fucking do it,” mumbled close enough to him for him to feel it against his lips before he was being backed up, half slammed into a concrete foundation pole, making another stunned sound in his throat. Jordi’s knee pressed between his legs, and Marcus’ hands were on his shoulders, facial hair brushing against him as Jordi’s tongue pushed into his mouth. He was too stunned to do much more than close his eyes, submitting way too easily as fire went straight through his veins and ending up kissing back after a few moments. Jordi had one of his wrists in his grip with the car keys pressing against the soft skin, pressed above his head against the pole, his other hand on Marcus’ hip hard enough it almost hurt. Jordi kissed like he was trying to claim him, and Marcus wasn’t sure why until he opened his eyes and side eyed two people with flashlights shining the beams in their direction.

A distraction.

Jordi said something he didn’t understand, and the security guys hurled something back at them, Jordi responded with a grin that was absolutely predatory. Marcus was helpless while he was pinned, and Jordi moved back in as if he were going to kiss him again, and the security guys said something that sounded condescending in tone before they walked away. Jordi waited for a moment before letting him go, and Marcus was _shaking_ with the shock of it all, wiping at his mouth and trying to keep himself standing upright as he leaned against the pole.

Breathless again, but this time for a completely different reason he didn’t want to think about. “The _fuck_ , man, why the fuck,” whispered loudly, trying to calm himself down. Fuck if that kiss hadn’t been good enough to get him weak at the knees like he’d just ran down another ninety flights of stairs.

“You wanna explain to those idiots why we’re sneaking around in the fucking dark after a massive power outage when most of the building is closed? Now stop fucking complaining, move your ass,” Jordi said back in the same loud whisper, taking his phone back out and looking at the section indicator on the next poll. He must have pressed the button to unlock it, because Marcus saw the tail lights blink close by, and from there it was a blur of disbelief as they got in the car and Marcus handed the target’s phone over before he forgot. He actually _had_ forgotten, but Jordi had asked for it.

From there, it was a blur out of the garage and to the airport, no traffic since it was pretty late at night, just around midnight like Jordi had said. Once they were at the drop off point at the airport, Jordi turned to him after a silent ride and said, “Good work, kid. I’ll contact you again if I need your help. Here’s your ticket,” and he reached into his inner pocket to get it out, popping the trunk for him to get his carry on. “Everything else will be shipped to you, bye for now.”

This time at least, Marcus finally got some sleep on the way home, in a mercifully quiet first class, even with his phone burning a hole in his pocket for when he took it off airplane mode and had to face his inbox. There was absolutely no fucking way he was going to be able to explain this one to his friends, let alone to Wrench.


End file.
